


I always knew I couldn't have what I wanted. Until I met you.

by soundsaboutright



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: M/M, Masturbation, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-09
Updated: 2017-08-09
Packaged: 2018-12-13 09:09:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11756604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soundsaboutright/pseuds/soundsaboutright
Summary: Side-glancing at the subject of Alec and sexual experience pre Magnus, aka masturbation, I always thought it made sense to head-canon him as the efficient type, pragmatic with his soldier’s body, with physical release a means to deal with stress or tension, not much more… Hence, not much creativity, effort or emotional investment was to be put into the execution of said task for him.Yesterday I had the thought: Well, but what if it was not so? Like, so very much not so.Have some Alec-on-Alec private action and feels, a short kind of character exploration, of you will.





	I always knew I couldn't have what I wanted. Until I met you.

Alec knows it will lead up to _this_ , the moment he wakes up this morning. Slipping from sleep into bleary awareness, a tight sensation is heavy inside Alec’s chest already; a vague notion of discontentment, like it has followed him from a dream he cannot remember. He turns off the beeping alarm and knows it then, knows that once he makes it through this day ahead of him, he will find himself there.

* * *

  
Here. Here on his back in his bed with two hours to midnight, lights turned off, door closed and locked. With limbs sore and heavy, but a mind still strangely hyper-focused and awake even after a full day’s strenuous work and drill.

When his thoughts are like this, sleep won’t come for at least a few hours, Alec knows. He doesn’t plan for it to.

He strips off his underwear and sleep-worn shirt and feels the thin comforter settle again on his naked skin.

Alec has found by now, that whenever this diffuse feeling of urgency finally gets too much, once in a while he needs this, needs to soothe his senses with stimuli that aren’t just made of physical strain or the pain of exercise and fight.

And he _wants_ to give that to himself.

He starts by drawing lazy circles with his fingertips into the soft hairs of his belly, where his hand has come to rest naturally, slightly damp with anticipation.

His other arm stretches, reaches up onto the pillow, where he bends it loosely above his head. When he turns his face against it, he can press his mouth into the soft inner side of his biceps.

He swallows against the feeling, and once more, it almost takes him by surprise how the instant comfort of something solid and warm, of skin against his lips allows his eyes to fall closed and a deep breath to leave his lungs.

A mere idea of a kiss never shared.

He doesn’t let himself get into this headspace too often. It holds a potential of vulnerability, after all. Holds an undesired promise of disillusionment, of making him feel the limitations of his yearnings all too harshly, whispering of what he can and more importantly _can never have_.

But then again that is just it, the very same reason why he has to go here some times. Because if he never is to have this kind of intimacy with someone else, not like he deeply wants to, then doesn’t he owe it to himself to give himself the next best thing? The illusion and the fantasy of it?

So his blunt fingernails brush across his hipbones, sensitive with delicate skin pulled taut across, and a shiver runs through Alec. He slowly lets his touches wander lower, circles the base of his cock so carefully, that it jerks slightly where it lies against his abdomen, and his eyes feel strangely wet with it.

For a while, then, it will be just the lightest and softest caresses along his shaft, his veins, his balls and inner thighs.

Sometimes he is so very gentle with himself that his throat feels tight with it, and he doesn’t really know why.

So much fills his chest in these moments that he can only coax it to the surface - where he feels he can handle it- with the most tender of touches, with drawn out teasing and feather-soft strokes of fingertips on pre-cum moist skin.

And Alec lets himself imagine that it was someone else’s hand giving this to him, and his mind aches while his body hums and quivers.

Then there is always that point, where he tries and concentrates, and his mind allows the trick: and he can shift his focus into his hand, away from his own dick for a while, exploring what it would feel like to have someone else hard and giving off heat beneath his touch.

His breath always comes heavy by this time, and he couldn’t tell which of both images gives him more pleasure.

Orgasm is a side-thought in these private hours, mostly, but still, all of this is often enough to make him come in a shudder, a non-violent, soft-ebbing thing, but so very deep, warming him to the core.

Other times it’s a careful slide and pressure of fingertips beneath his balls that send him there with a choked off gasp and a tremble.

 

Whichever way it goes, though, afterwards when he sleeps, a spare pillow will always be pressed against the nape of his neck, like someone was there behind him, holding on to him.

**Author's Note:**

> Great, now I made my own throat tight for Alec. Let me know what you think?  
> I'm reallysporadicsterekart on tumblr...


End file.
